


Tempest

by thatdamnuchiha



Series: MadaSaku Week 2020 [3]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Alliances, Alternate Universe - Demons, BAMF Haruno Sakura, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Fantasy, Love at First Sight, MadaSaku Week, MadaSaku Week 2020, Marriage of Convenience, POV Haruno Sakura, Sakura is not a Happy Bunny, Snarky Haruno Sakura, Strong Haruno Sakura, at first, i guess?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-17
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:33:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23184835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatdamnuchiha/pseuds/thatdamnuchiha
Summary: She was the princess of the Haruno Clan. He was the general sent to subjugate them into Hashirama’s growing empire.Day 3 (17/3)•	Demon AU•	Love at first sight•	“Do you really expect me to believe that?”
Relationships: Haruno Sakura/Uchiha Madara
Series: MadaSaku Week 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1664476
Comments: 36
Kudos: 401
Collections: Fics that made me happy 2021, Of Fluff and Crack, The Many Iterations of Haruno Sakura





	1. stormswept

**Author's Note:**

> Day 3 is here...
> 
> Like... I have no real idea what I'm doing here, so I tried to do a Demon AU, and I gave them different traits and tried to introduce culture, but I'm aiming for this to be a shorter fic, so there's not as much world building in this one.
> 
> Day 3 (17/3)  
> • Demon AU  
> • Love at first sight  
> • “Do you really expect me to believe that?”
> 
> In this fic, Madara basically arranges a marriage with Sakura when she's left with very little options on the table, so there might be some non-con vibes around that. If you aren't alright with that, then feel free to leave.

She could still remember the first time they had clashed in battle, five days previously, before he’d rallied his troops and surrounded her encampment so very thoroughly she hadn’t had a choice but to surrender. He was the First General of the Senju-Uchiha Alliance, and the Head of the Uchiha Clan for a reason – a reason he’d soon shown her in all their subsequent clashes. He was always so recognisable there on the battlefield, with his blood red armour, his hair long, messy, and that same inky black colour she remembered her childhood friend’s to be. It had fluttered about, never staying still, just as the man himself didn’t.

He had fought his way through the battlefield like a firestorm, and she had rose to meet him – the tidal wave to quell his raging inferno. Though she hadn’t quelled him, so much as matched him blow for blow in combat… for a short while, at least.

That was how she had wound up there, in a cell, deep inside the enemy camp.

Cord bound her wrists behind her back, thick twine tying her bare feet together – they had taken one look at the spikes and claws of her footwear and promptly confiscated them. She only had her natural weapons left: her claws, sharp teeth, and the horns all members of the demon race possessed.

It was one of the few things which bound them as a species, despite the overwhelming number of differences between clans and tribes. Well that, and the fact some half-sprite called Hashirama was currently trying to unify them all under one banner. Oddly enough, he was succeeding with that endeavour, though some of that success could no doubt be thanks to the aid of one Uchiha Madara.

They had subjugated the larger clans closest to them first: the Yamanaka, the Nara, the Hyuga, and numerous others. Now though, their attention had turned to her own clan. The Haruno Clan. A generally quiet clan who had lived on the borders of the Land of Fire, on sandy plains verging on the Land of Wind. They were peaceful on the whole, unless provoked – and the Senju-Uchiha Alliance had well and truly poked the bee’s hive – which was how her current situation had come to being.

_Barbarians,_ they called them.

Sakura could hardly fault them for that. Their way of fighting was likely barbaric to outsiders – though it was less a way of fighting, and more a way of hitting the enemy with anything and everything they could lay their fingers on.

The end result usually wasn’t something pretty to look at.

She didn’t care about everything she did seeming pretty. She had long since abandoned any thought of that, along with the fledgling crushes she’d once had on the boys she’d met by a river deeper in the Land of Fire. Sakura had never travelled very far since then, though not thanks to heartbreak. She was a princess of her clan, treasured and kept protected from enemies who might wish to force their clan into alliance using her as a bartering chip _._ Her lip curled. She had become as strong as she had to prevent that and yet… Sakura shook her head.

It was only fortunate her name was a tightly kept secret amongst her troops. Sakura didn’t particularly want to imagine what would happen if it were revealed the Princess of the Haruno Clan was in their enemies’ midst.

Nothing good, that was for sure, so rather than drawing attention to herself by struggling futilely and screaming at her captors, she started to work at loosening her binds. That was easier said than done though, because Uchiha really knew how to tie their knots.

Cursing under her breath, she chafed her skin raw with her strength, all the while silently hoping for the rope to hurry up and give, a small smile on her face as the ropes around her wrists slowly started to loosen. She would soon be free to unbind her feet… _and then she would have to figure out how to rescue her men._ The Haruno never left a single living soldier behind where they could help it– a legacy passed onto them by one of the few clans they had allied with years previously.

_Hatake._

A clang of the door to her makeshift prison cut through her thoughts. She straightened as best she could on her knees and cursed her luck as a shadow fell over her, blocking the sole light source in the tent. “General Uchiha requests your presence in his quarters,” the man declared, and Sakura avoided eye contact as best she could for fear of being subjected to the Uchiha Clan’s infamous genjutsu. “I have been instructed to bring you there. Please do not struggle – you’ll only make things worse for yourself.”

Sakura spat at his feet, grimacing as she was pulled to her own by the man and his companion and wrenched forwards. It was late, she knew, even before she was pulled out under the dusky sky, and her stomach twisted into knots at the thought of what the Uchiha might want of her… _especially at this hour._ She lifted her eyes from the ground, a snarl set on her face. She would gouge his precious eyes out if he tried anything, she decided, scowling at the sight of the ostentatious tent her guard was guiding her towards.

If that didn’t inform her who resided there, she didn’t know what would. Gritting her teeth, she allowed herself to be pulled towards it, _because really she could have escaped anytime if not for what would become of her warriors – of that she was sure._ As long as her opponent wasn’t that bloody general she would manage just fine.

“Enter,” the voice she’d grown so used to hearing shout on the battlefield sounded, and Sakura felt a shiver run down her spine.

The tent flap was pushed aside, and Sakura set her jaw to a grimace as she was dragged inside. The inside was just as fancy as the outside – the bed lifted off the ground, the decorations varying between a navy blue and a burnished red so similar to the colour of spilt blood. A desk sat on one side, low, with numerous scrolls and writing utensils scattered across its surface. “We brought her as requested,” her captors spoke as one – something she found rather eerie to behold.

Madara nodded in acknowledgement. “Leave us,” he commanded, and Sakura could only watch as the pair swiftly retreated before her attention snapped onto the only other person in the tent.

Flat black eyes met her own from the edge of the bed where he sat like a cat ready to pounce. “Uchiha,” she grumbled, ensuring her voice didn’t quaver in the slightest. Uchiha Madara fed on fear, and she wouldn’t give him hers. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“An offer,” he said, eyes spinning red as he looked her somewhat battered and dirty form up and down.

Her eyes narrowed into slits, unable to tear themselves away from the sight of those three black tomoe spinning in glowing crimson irises. “Of what?”

Madara chuckled – a sound which had her spine stiffening, the hairs on the back of her neck rising at the almost hungry look in his gaze. “Relax,” he spoke, laughter in his tone. “I doubt it’s what you’re thinking. I’ve never taken a woman against her will, and I have no desire to start with you… No, my offer is something else. Something I’m sure you’ll be interested in.”

Sakura clicked her tongue. “Spit it out already then,” she grumbled.

“So impatient…” He shook his head. “How much do you know about the Uchiha Clan?”

“You’re all bloodthirsty maniacs?” she offered, arching an eyebrow.

“No, dear, that’s just me.” Madara smiled, a twisted, cold thing which made Sakura wish she could actually run away, no matter how fast he’d be on her. “I’m more talking about the way we find our brides.”

“By courting them, like most normal demons?”

Madara chuckled yet again, and Sakura sorely wished she still had the opportunity to wind him. “Ah, so you don’t know. Though I suppose it’s no surprise. That Senju bastard is the only one who ever really looked into our clan beyond our warring capabilities.”

“Why did you even bother to ask then, dimwit?” Sakura grumbled, rolling her eyes heavenward.

“Has anyone ever told you your defiance is adorable?” he inquired, sniggering once again at the flash of irritation which rolled across her face. She’d always been far too expressive for her own good, and her mentality of _punch first ask questions later_ hadn’t particularly helped her rein things in. “But getting to my point… Haruno, as far as I’m aware, are born with two distinct personalities, one of which is demonic in nature, and these over time assimilate into one. Uchiha, on the other hand have only one personality, but with certain instincts… and those instincts play a part in the choosing of our bride.” Madara sighed somewhat wistfully. “I suppose the best way to describe it to an outsider would be love at first sight.”

Sakura frowned. “Well that’s lovely and all, but what does this have to do with your offer?” she demanded, glaring at him.

“You’re not thick, dear,” he said, sitting back and folding his arms across his chest. “I’m sure you can figure out where this is headed.”

Her throat went dry, comprehension trickling in as she knelt there on the floor, because she could put two and two together and come out with four. His instincts had pulled him towards her, and she doubted much could change that fact. “No,” she hissed. “Not in a million years!”

“Wait until you hear my offer, dearest,” Madara said, hopping down from his bed, prowling over to where she waited. “You see… the Haruno Clan are currently resisting Hashirama’s new regime, and they might be eradicated at this rate – given how fiercely you fight. That imbecile doesn’t like war, and whilst I enjoy battle, I prefer to put my clan’s safety above the thrill of the fight. So the only other option is to push an alliance through.”

Sakura scowled. “And what makes you think the entire clan would ally with you over a measly general?” _He couldn’t know._ It wasn’t possible. Her stomach lurched at the very thought.

“Well, given how fiercely your men guard your name, I think it’s safe to say you carry a fair amount of power in your clan,” Madara purred, reaching out to twirl a lock of her pastel pink hair around his gloved finger. “Our intelligence already knows the names of all the higher-ups of your clan… even the daughters of elders… though we’re struggling to put names to faces. I don’t suppose you’ll enlighten me, will you?”

“Never.”

Madara sighed. “Shall I put it this way?” he grumbled. “Agree to become my bride, and I’ll offer an alliance to your clan. One which will ensure prime treatment of you and your people compared to the other clans we’ve subjugated. Not to mention I’ll agree that none of your soldiers who we’ve captured here will be severely harmed or killed… but if you deny me, then I cannot guarantee their safety, nor can I guarantee your clan will make it out alive and intact.” He shrugged, looking horribly nonchalant about the prospect of slaughtering her people. “Decide.”

Sakura swallowed, gaze dropping to floor as she decided the carpet had become incredibly interesting over the last few moments. In that instant she despised him – he who had practically cornered her into an agreement she couldn’t really say no to. Not if she cared about her clan, and she did. There was no reason for her to say no aside from her own selfishness, and Haruno were supposed to prioritise the lives of their kin over their own freedom. That much she knew. That much had been drilled into her bones since birth.

But to give her freedom over to the smug general whose people had killed so many of her own… _who would continue to kill so many of her own if she didn’t take his deal…_

The choice was obvious. It always had been.

She would always choose her family over her own freedom, and deep down she had always been prepared to.

She lifted her eyes from the ground, setting her shoulders in place as she glared up at him. “Fine,” she said, lips curling in disgust at the prospect of becoming his bride. “Have it your way. I accept your deal but know if you do not keep your end of the bargain, then I’ll rip out your throat with my teeth.”

Madara smiled, no doubt remembering all the similar threats she had sent his way when their blades had clashed. “I love it when you flirt with me.”


	2. eye of the storm

The fabric was heavy against her skin, the layers of fine silk and embroidery making her long for her sandy homeland where lighter fabrics were worn and more skin was shown. She liked the feeling of the breeze dancing over her bare skin. Her tan was already fading from the long hours she had spent cooped up away from the comforting rays of the sun, and her patience was as fragile as glass thanks to one Uchiha Madara.

“If you stare at me any longer, I feel I might spontaneously combust, princess,” he said, a smirk fixed on his lips. The same smirk which had practically become a permanent fixture on his annoyingly handsome face after she had relented and finally told him her name. “Am I that handsome?”

Sakura grunted, shifting her gaze out to the carriage window. She couldn’t remember how long they had been on the road for, only that their destination of Konohagakure was looming closer every day. “You’re an eyesore,” she muttered, putting her feet up on the bench opposite.

Madara snorted. “I love you too.”

“Do you really expect me to believe that?” she asked, staring determinedly out of the window. “You’ve known me for a matter of days, and all you have are your instincts pulling you towards me… is that really love?”

He shrugged. “Closer to admiration, probably, but the feelings usually evolve into something more,” he said, and she finally met those swirling red eyes. “It’s what happened with my brother and his bride… and they were at each other’s throats when they first met.”

Sakura scoffed. “And you expect the same thing to happen here?”

“It would be nice,” he said, turning to look out his own window on the other side of the carriage. “Besides, look at it this way – you’ll be marrying me soon enough, and you’ll spend the rest of your life alongside my own. Do you really want to make yourself miserable?”

She chewed on her lip, because he had a point. _He had a damned point,_ and the thought made her want to scream and throw something at him. _Something like an entire tree… or maybe a stone column._ She wondered which would hurt more.

“So how are you plotting to maim me this time?” he inquired, quirking an eyebrow in question.

Sakura felt her ears burn, cheeks soon following in turning a bright crimson. Her face was far too expressive, and Madara was seemingly far too good at reading hers. She hated that. Hated the fact she could never seem to hide anything from those sparkly red eyes of his. “I _will_ throw a tree at you,” she grumbled. “I hear there are a lot of them where we’re going.”

“I don’t doubt that you will,” he said, chuckling quietly. “Just know that I’ll be sure to dodge it.”

“ _If_ you can.”

“Princess, you’ve seen me on the battlefield… you really think a slow moving tree could take me down?” His lips curled into a somewhat pleasant smile. “Even Hashirama couldn’t take me down with a single tree, and he can sure grow a number of those.”

“Then it’ll be stone pillar,” she muttered, folding her arms with a huff, mentally telling herself she needed to calm down if she wanted that blush to vanish.

“If you can actually knock one of those down to throw at me, I’d be impressed,” he remarked. “The only ones around Konoha are larger than any I saw near your clan.”

He didn’t seem to be teasing her either, and Sakura felt her cheeks burn that much hotter. Madara actually respected her abilities at least, even if he didn’t seem to respect her privacy or her wish to be free. But she supposed she might as well take what she could get there. He had been right in his silent assumptions when he asked whether she wanted to be miserable – she would rather be happy. Almost anyone would. Now the only way to find her happiness was to fall in love with the demon sitting in the carriage with her.

“What’s Konoha like?” she asked, avoiding looking at him as she changed the topic to something slightly less violent.

Madara was silent for a heartbeat. “Comfortable,” he murmured. “It’s… comfortable…”

“The Haruno Compound was comfortable too,” she said, pulling her knees to her chest as a bout of homesickness clawed at her chest. _She’d probably never see her family again._ Her shoulders sunk, and the side of her head felt uncomfortable as his eyes bore into her there.

He sunk back in his seat. “I’m selfish. Uchiha generally are when it comes to love… so don’t be expecting any apologies for bringing you home.”

“It’s not love.”

“Not yet, so let’s just call it admiration and be done with it,” he said, lapsing into a silence Sakura felt to be more comforting than she thought possible. But that wasn’t a bad thing, or so she supposed. This was going to be her life now. She just had to find peace with it.

_Easier said than done._

* * *

His home was just as imposing as he himself was, though Sakura hadn’t been expecting anything different. This was _Uchiha Madara_. Anything less, and she probably would have been slightly disappointed. It was a castle tucked away in the very corner of the city, made from dark grey stone, with black fencing – the only splash of colour being the red and white of the Uchiwa spaced at even intervals.

“Welcome home,” Madara said, a lazy smirk on his lips at the way her jaw dropped ever so slightly.

This was going to be her home now. Sakura bit her lip, holding her head high, ignoring the proffered hand as she leapt out of the carriage with the fluid grace she’d always possessed. “It’s… impressive…” she murmured, almost rolling her eyes at the way Madara seemed to preen at her words. _Like one of those falcons he’d told her about raising._

“Just like me,” he said, and Sakura actually rolled her eyes that time, ignoring the odd warm twinge in her chest. _Bragging just like her little brothers… how she missed them…_

She settled for snorting derisively. “In your dreams, maybe.”

“Come,” he spoke sharply, striding towards the large doors. “You should get it settled in. The sooner you do, the sooner you can adjust to life here in Konoha.”

She looked at him sharply. “I won’t be sharing with you?”

“The house, yes. The room, well, only if you want to,” he said. “It’s like you said. We aren’t close, and I do not think it wise to force you to remain in close proximity to me at all times. That would probably have the opposite effect to the one I want,” he remarked, pushing open the oversized doors to his _castle_. No matter what he said _it was not a house_ it was a damned castle.

The Uchiwa fan was engraved there too, and Sakura snorted. _They were a very prideful clan,_ to have their insignia displayed almost everywhere. The same insignia she would no doubt have to don as soon as they were married.

Sakura let out a long breath.

It was different to the Haruno Compound and the sandy deserts she had grown up in, she mused, glancing around the place. But she could adjust, she decided, looking at her husband-to-be out of the corner of her eye as he guided her into his oversized home. He was considerate to her. That much she could respect. That much she could work with.

* * *

“Are you certain about letting me wear this?” Sakura asked, staring at her clan’s version of formalwear. “I am to meet with your king…”

“Your men told me it’s how you show your respect,” Madara said softly. “And told me it’s considered foolish if all high-ranking officers in a meeting turn up unarmed in case of an attack… Besides, dear, you’ll look rather fetching in that.”

Sakura merely arched an eyebrow at him, scepticism written all over her face.

Madara chuckled. “Get dressed. I don’t particularly want to be late.”

Nodding, Sakura could only watch as he wandered off, leaving her to change into what could only really be classed as battle wear. Her footwear had even been returned to her for the occasion, the claws and blades gleaming in the bright lighting of the room – proving they had been taken care of well in her absence. Her pants were dark red, the fine, grey-coloured scales of her lightweight armour polished to a point where they almost shone.

“You decent in there?” Madara rapped sharply on the door, and Sakura fiddled with the burgundy-brown scarves tied at her waist, ceremonial sword tucked there in the makeshift belt. She didn’t use the preferred leather straps her betrothed and his clan favoured to secure their weaponry. Not that she would be keeping her sword – instead, she’d be offering up to her _new_ ruler as a sign of her and her clan’s allegiance.

Rather than answering, she went and opened the door to be greeted with Madara’s smiling face. _Though if she were honest it looked closer to a smirk as his eyes drifted up and down her lithe form._

“Told you you’d look excellent,” he remarked, offering out his forearm. “Shall we, love?”

“Do you have to use so many endearments all the time?” she grumbled, metal clacking against the flooring as she stepped forwards, once again ignoring his proffered arm.

“Isn’t it endearing?”

Sakura rolled her eyes heavenward, silently praying to her gods for strength. _How did she get stuck with this particular demon?_ she wanted to know. He was a terror on the battlefield, and he could grin even amidst bloody carnage. Yet sometimes he could be a complete dork. She had learnt an alarming amount of information about her husband-to-be over the past few weeks.

He liked his coffee black, no sugar – that was a weakness, according to him.

_Sakura made sure to drink her creamy, sugar-laced coffee right in front of his face._

He liked his books kept organised – so as to keep the romance and adventure novels he read before bed separate from the history and other factual reading material his bedroom held.

_Sakura made sure to sneak in there once every couple of days to destroy that organisation system._

He liked to wear slippers with panda-decorations on them – from two fluffy ears to two little black buttons for eyes.

 _Sakura made sure to steal them at least once a week and parade around in front of him with them on._ It was hardly her fault they were so damned comfortable. _Plus the floors did get colder there._ Sakura was more accustomed to burning sand and heated tile.

Silently, she made a note to steal them once again that night. Her feet would be killing her, if this meeting actually took as long as she feared it would. She glanced down at the shiny, deadly metal claws she wore. _It didn’t matter if they made her feet ache if she wore them for too long – they were shiny, and very, very deadly._ Sakura liked things like that.

And judging by the approving looks they received from her partner – Madara did as well.


	3. the lull

Senju Tobirama hated her on sight. He also disrespected her traditions, though Sakura suspected it was less to do with the fact her husband-to-be enjoyed calling him a _white-haired bastard_ and more because he was worried about her attacking his brother with her ceremonial sword – which was of more use than the puny little ceremonial swords they seemed to treasure within the Senju Clan. All his worries proved for naught though, and the little ceremony went off without a hitch.

She presented her sword to Hashirama in keeping with the traditions of her clan. It was accepted, with one Uzumaki Mito keeping a close eye on her husband all the while. And if what Madara had told her was true, it was likely to keep him from accidentally insulting her through goodwill.

Madara had then declared her in front of a hundred or so other people to be his bride, and that the Haruno Clan had joined them – having received the correspondence from them hours before. Her clan would be safe, and she was to be married to the demon at her side sooner or later. Dimly, she wondered when he planned on holding the appropriate ceremony.

She didn’t know Uchiha Traditions.

Though she would no doubt be taught them sooner rather than later, given she was all but set to join their clan. _As their leader’s wife._ Sighing, she rested her head against Madara’s broad shoulder – that being the only real thing she could lean against thanks to the fact he had his arm looped through hers in the middle of the hall where they stood.

“Tired already?” Madara remarked, glancing down at her. “Though I can’t say I blame you. These sorts of things bore me to sleep too.”

“How tragic,” she said, letting out a long sigh as she shifted her weight on her aching feet. “We might actually have something in common.”

“Given how at home you seemed on the battlefield, I’m not surprised,” he continued, heedless of her snark. “We probably have more in common than you might think.”

“Probably,” Sakura mumbled, staring blandly out across the room.

Madara tugged on her arm. “Come,” he ordered. “I spy that idiotic little brother of mine… and I’d rather talk with him than Hashirama and his brother. They’ll always come over to try and introduce new people to me if I’m not _socialising_ with others.” He scoffed. “It’s like they think I’m a dog.”

“Woof,” Sakura intoned, drawing a laugh from her partner. _It was a nice sound,_ she mused, a faint smile on her lips as Madara guided her over to a man with a slightly more tamed version of his own unruly mop of hair.

“Ah, brother,” he said, turning to greet them as they both came to a stop in front of them. “How lovely to see you… I do believe congratulations are in order.” He glanced at her then, a pleasant smile on his lips. “I didn’t quite catch your name, miss?”

“Sakura,” she answered, offering out her hand which he took in a firm handshake.

“Sakura,” he drawled, testing the name on his tongue before he gestured to the brown-haired lady beside him. _A Senju_ , Sakura realised, noting the set of lower horns which curled around her head like a crown of thorns. _An indicator of fae heritage, just like Hashirama though his was more prominent._ “This is my wife, Touka. We’ll have to come over sometime. I haven’t had an excuse to visit my brother in a while.”

Sakura blinked. “You need an excuse?”

“Oh,” Izuna mumbled, a smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth as he glanced back at his older brother. “My, my, brother… Has the love bug finally bitten?” he all but purred, eyes slitted as he leered mischievously at Madara. “I’ll bet it bit _hard._ ”

“I’m going to throw you in the Koi Pond if you dare to show your face at my house,” Madara sniffed, tightening his grip on her arm.

Izuna didn’t back down in the slightest. “I look forward to it,” he declared, an impish smile on his lips. “That is, if you can tear your eyes away from your beloved here.”

Madara rolled his eyes. “I think you’ll find I can multitask, brat,” he said, glancing sideways at her as she shifted on her feet yet again. The ache was so much more noticeable when she wasn’t fighting, and it was quickly growing uncomfortable. And when she was uncomfortable she was far more irritable.

_And far more likely to claw someone’s face off._

The prime candidate for that treatment that night was Tobirama. _Sakura swore they were going to have problems if he kept glaring at her like that._ Her shoulders slumped. _No. She couldn’t afford to piss off or injure the brother of her new king._

It would only make her new life that much more miserable.

“Oww,” she grumbled, feeling a spike of pain race up her leg.

“Right,” Madara spoke, and Sakura found herself swept off her feet. “I’ve spoken to people and done what I came to do – so I think it’s about time we head back,” he said, glancing down at her as she blinked up at him a few times.

“Don’t we need to stay for a little longer?”

“Nope,” he said. “Hashirama will whine when he comes over for dinner, but there’s not much he can do. I like my privacy.”

“You have dinner with him often then?” she asked, deciding it was better not to complain about being carried like a princess. _She technically was one._ Plus her feet were aching, and Madara had freely offered himself as her means of transportation to the carriage taking them back to his home.

“He barges his way into my house—”

“Castle,” Sakura corrected.

“—my _house_ once every week or so,” he finished, walking as quickly as he could as he headed out towards the carriage they had travelled in to get from Madara’s _Castle_ on the very outskirts of the sprawling city to Hashirama’s Palace.

“It’s a castle,” Sakura declared. “It’s not a house. You have a damned castle, admit it.”

“Just because you lived in a tiny little compound…”

“The Haruno Compound is a perfectly good size, thank you very much,” Sakura said. “It’s also built to _not_ stand out in the middle of the desert, because we prefer our privacy, thank you very much.”

“We’re going to get along well.”

“You are completely missing the point, you idiot!” she hissed, lifting up her clawed foot threateningly. “I can and _will_ claw your eyes out with my feet, don’t you forget that!”

“Dear, you know how much your threats turn me on, don’t you?”

Sakura froze, foot half-angled towards his face, and rolled her eyes as he carried her into their carriage. “You’re…” she trailed off, the words to describe him escaping her as she shook her head, settling her foot back down. “Are you going to put me down so I can sit—”

“I’m comfortable here,” Madara said, cutting her off before she could get another word out in protest. “Besides, my lap should be a better seat than these cushioned ones – it’s even heated.”

“I’d be worried if it wasn’t.”

Madara smiled. “You do care.”

“About sharing a carriage with a corpse? Yes,” she said tartly. “The smell would be horrible.”

* * *

Madara brought out a thin drawstring bag as they arrived home, setting her down in the parlour so she could take her metal claws off before her feet started hurting once more. Night had well and truly fallen, the moon high in the sky when they finally relaxed in their home. “Guess what I had someone pick up for you,” Madara said, smiling proudly as he opened the little bag – revealing a set of _adorable_ slippers with some sort of cat print, along with fluffy miniature ears and buttons for eyes.

“They’re adorable,” Sakura declared, placing her footwear to one side as she made her way over to the cute slippers. Only to bypass them entirely as she moved to slip on the comfy panda ones.

“They’re also for you,” Madara said, pointedly staring at her feet.

Sakura shrugged.

“They’re for your foot size,” he added, staring almost pleadingly at her as she paused in the doorway.

Sakura smirked. “Too bad for you,” she said, prancing out of the parlour and over towards Madara’s bedroom to steal a book or two to read before bed.


	4. the crest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there was a lil timeskip... and some jumping around in this chapter, since what comes next is the epilogue of sorts.

Her little brother stared at her – though he wasn’t quite as little as she remembered as he sat across from her in the parlour. It had come as a bit of a shock to see him there, but Madara had apparently invited him over – what with their wedding being right around the corner.

“Do you love him?” he asked, staring at her with those jade green eyes so much like her own.

Sakura blinked, thinking back on the many weeks she’d had to get to know her intended after he had stolen her away from her homeland. “I don’t know,” she said, chewing on her lip. _What even was love?_ She didn’t quite know anymore.

Her brother frowned. “Does he make you happy at least?”

She smiled then. “Yes,” she mumbled, thinking back on her time with her dorky husband-to-be. “He does.”

* * *

Mornings were usually quiet, and they alternated between cooking more often than not – sometimes even cooking together as Sakura found their lives blending together. It felt like an almost seamless transition.

In some ways that thought and realisation unnerved her. _But that was how it was meant to be._

“So the date is finally set,” Sakura spoke quietly, staring down at her breakfast.

Madara glanced up from the newspaper he was reading. “Is it too soon?” he enquired, tilting his head as he stared at her face – for any tells which would give away a lie.

“I don’t know,” she said, wrapping her fingers around her own mug of coffee. “You’re not what I expected, that’s for sure,” she murmured. _There was no doubt she enjoyed his company anymore, nor that he was undoubtedly a good match for her._ She hadn’t had any lovers back in the desert, nor had she really thought about anything beyond war and her fighting skills. “But I don’t think that’s a bad thing… do you?”

Madara shook his head, sipping at his coffee, making a face as he noticed the milk in it. “Disgusting,” he muttered, wiping at his mouth and tongue furiously. “I don’t know how you drink that hogwash.”

“It’s delicious,” Sakura sniffed. “Hardly my fault you can’t appreciate the joys of sugar – oy!” she called. “Don’t throw it away. I’ll drink it,” she said, rolling her eyes at his wastefulness. “Honestly…”

Madara set his mug down by her plate, watching her with raised eyebrows as the kettle started boiling over in the kitchen. “You don’t care that I just drank from the same mug?” he murmured, a hint of red in his cheeks.

Sakura raised an eyebrow. “I don’t care about boy cooties, if that’s what you’re asking about,” she said with a snort, taking another sip of Madara’s failed coffee. _The same one that she had made absentmindedly – hence the copious amounts of milk and sugar._

The air went silent for a few seconds, then only broken by the sound of Madara’s footsteps as he walked over the pale stone tiling so he was standing at her side. Sakura set what was now her coffee down, blinking as her chair was spun until she was facing him. His hands came down on the armrests, a knee wedging itself between her legs as he pinned her there. “Do you really think of me as a _boy,_ Sakura?” he asked, eyes dark and heated as he stared at her then.

She picked her coffee back up, sipping from it noisily before she answered. “There’s more to being a man than your sexual prowess, Madara,” she said, chuckling as she set her mug back down with a clink, ignoring the heat and the ache building between her thighs as she stared into those alluring black eyes. She loved arguing with him – part of her craved it, craved his attention. _He really was a good fit for her,_ or so she mused as she held his stare. _But what she was currently feeling towards him wasn’t love. It was lust._ Sakura let out a breath, blinking as Madara leant down, his intentions clear even before his lips met her own in a tangle of confused lust and longing.

Her hands threaded in his wild hair, a moan on her lips as he drew back too soon. “I know,” he whispered, hot breath brushing by her ear.

“Maybe you should stop thinking with Madara Junior down there then,” she muttered, snorting slightly at Madara’s bemused face, wishing he would step back if only so she could hold onto her composure.

“Did you seriously just call…?” he trailed off, laughter ringing through the air – the sound making that ache and longing come back.

“That I did,” she said, relaxing slightly as Madara stood back up. _Ignore it,_ she whispered to herself, crossing her legs over one another.

Madara shook his head. “Well then, guess which name we won’t be using for our children,” he murmured, a fond smile on his lips.

Sakura froze then, taking another sip of her coffee, savouring the taste as she glanced down at her flat belly. Her hand fell down, fingers clawing at the soft material of the shirt she wore. “Children, huh…” she said softly, ignoring the overwhelming longing which surged through her at the thought.

 _Would they have her hair or Madara’s? Eyes like hers or the coal black of their father’s?_ She swallowed thickly, cheeks reddening rapidly as she sat there, staring at her half eaten breakfast. _She wanted them._

“Sakura?” Madara stared at her curiously.

Huffing, Sakura stared at the wall, trying to force the blush from her face. “It’s nothing,” she grumbled, revelling in the realisation that she wanted to be a mother. _She wanted to have children. Wanted to raise them with Madara._ She chewed on her lip then. _Was that what love was?_

“It doesn’t look like nothing,” he said, tilting his head as he eyed her from head to toe.

“Hn,” Sakura grunted, ignoring the twitching of his eyebrow as she hurried away from her husband-to-be. _She loved imitating his grunts – ones said to be specific to the Uchiha – if only to annoy him ever so slightly. Or was it embarrassing him?_ Sakura didn’t know. Things had been too confusing as of late.

* * *

She leant against the door to the parlour where Madara was apparently entertaining her brother, sighing quietly as she heard her brother’s voice inside. “Break her heart, and I’ll break you,” her brother snarled, and Sakura chuckled. Of course he would pull that card. He was the most protective, being the eldest brother – though he wasn’t older than her, and he certainly wasn’t older than Madara. She rolled her eyes. _She hardly needed protecting anymore._

Though apparently, rather than laughing at her cute little brother, Madara respected the amount of balls her brother had to say that to his face rather than plotting his demise out quietly in a dimly lit tent somewhere – as he said people often did.

Sakura wasn’t really sure she could blame them.

After all, they hadn’t seen him the way she had. Nor did they know him as well as she now did.


	5. aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a short and fluffy time-skip for a finish...

Sakura wasn’t exactly sure what set her off, but pregnancy hormones had made her oddly prone to bursting into tears at the oddest things. Izuna looked oddly terrified as she burst into tears, sending a pleading, helpless look at his own wife as Sakura made to get up and find her husband. _Probably because he knew that Madara would throw him in the koi pond, or some other manner of unpleasantness for making his wife cry._

Letting out a breath, Sakura ignored Izuna’s gaze which begged her not to run and find Madara for some comfort as she hurried back inside. The weather was lovely, though that was hardly surprising considering it was summer in Konoha.

Madara was where he usually was – inside his office, dealing with mountains and mountains of paperwork which came with alliance and peace. He glanced up at her as she came in, gaze soft – though his face soon twisted into a scowl when he spotted her tears before she planted herself in his lap, wrapping her arms around him as best she could. “Izuna?” he asked, arms curling around her, a single hand pawing at her rounded belly.

“Hmm,” she mumbled, nodding before she settled her head into the crook of his neck. “Do you think I’ll be a good mother?” she asked tearily, fear curling in her gut as she fretted over the future. _Their future._ She worried about it far too often.

Madara sighed deeply – it being the twelfth time she’d asked him that. “You’re as dramatic as Hashirama sometimes,” he grumbled, fingers creasing the fabric of her shirt as he glanced down at her as she snuggled into his lap. “You’ll be the best mother in the entirety of Konoha.” His lips brushed against her temple, and Sakura basked in his affection.

So much had changed in the three years of being married to Madara, and now the next change was upon them. _Parenthood._ Groaning, she climbed to her feet, dragging her husband along with her, rubbing at her aching back.

“Want me to draw you a warm bath later?” he asked, clinging to her waist as they stood there, bathed in the light of the sun shining through the large window behind his desk.

“That would be lovely,” Sakura said, peering out at the garden, an odd sort of longing filling her as she remembered the many picnics they’d had out in the rose garden by the lake over the past few years. It was their favourite place there. “Wanna visit the lake with me?”

“Good idea,” Madara said, nodding in acceptance, and Sakura grabbed a hold of his arm, all but dragging him behind her in her haste. “I’ve been meaning to stretch my legs for a while. The amount of paperwork I have to sift through is ridiculous.”

“I’ll help you once your idiot brother has gone home,” she mumbled, smiling when the lake and the gardens surrounding it came into view.

“Shame we didn’t bring a blanket,” Madara muttered, glaring at the ground as though it offended him as he stepped up to the water’s edge.

Sakura blinked, hands itching to do something as she stared at him on the borders of the lake, admiring the sight of the lotuses there. _And she was abruptly reminded of how he’d compared her to one Senju Hashirama earlier – and if that wasn’t an insult, she didn’t know what was._ Gleefully, she lifted her hands, stepping up behind him quietly before she lashed out like a coiled snake.

He went in with a loud splash, and Sakura cackled as he resurface – spiky hair looking terribly drowned as he turned to glare at her. “What was that for?” he grumbled, eyes softening in seconds. _He could never be angry at her for long, and the same was true for her._

“That’s for comparing me to that overdramatic fool!” she said gruffly, folding her arms as he pulled himself ashore. _Maybe if she hadn’t been pregnant, she might have wound up joining him in those cold waters, but unfortunately for him she was._ And Madara always fretted about like a mother hen when it came to the safety of her and their child.

He had tried to carry her around everywhere when she had first started showing, hovering about her like a rather persistent fly. Though she had soon set him straight about the fact she was simply pregnant – not invalid.

“You just wanted me to share that bath with you, didn’t you?” Madara murmured, eyebrow raised as he placed one sopping arm around her shoulders, guiding her back towards their home.

Sakura shrugged. “That too.”


End file.
